


The Echo that Shattered

by WynterTwylight



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 2x17, Aruba - Freeform, M/M, Or Is he?, back to the woods, but still evil, canon is involved, handsies in the woods, len isn't as much of a dick, mick texts, snart is conflicted, there's still good in Snart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 08:51:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10553522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WynterTwylight/pseuds/WynterTwylight
Summary: While Leonard Snart is off trying to pick off the Legends with the rest of the Legion, Mick summons the only person he can think of to talk some sense into his partner.Or: Mick texts Barry to try and convince Leonard Snart there's good in him. Again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is coming directly from too many emotions from that wild _Legends of Tomorrow_ finale. I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Barry hadn’t known that Mick had his number until the thief had texted him. Sure, Barry had hundreds of contacts that he never went though because _that_ would be a hassle, but this… this is ridiculous.

He still reads the text.

Mick: _You time travel. 1916. Find me._

So Barry does. He knows Mick is with the Legends. He knows Mick is a good person. Most importantly, he’s pretty sure _Mick Rory_ would never ask him for help unless it was dire. Barry doesn’t even know how Mick _texted_ him.

Giving people the benefit of the doubt is really going to hurt him one day.

He finds Mick on the outskirts of a battlefield, dressed to blend in and... distraught.

Barry flashes so that he’s directly in front of him.

“Red,” Mick says and relief fills his face. “It’s Snart. He’s killing all of us, and I just… didn’t know what to do. There’s others, but Snart’s supposed to be…” Mick’s voice fades and Barry had been unaware that Mick could be anything but gruff and stern, joking, dark even.

“…dead?” Barry finishes, hating even _saying_ it.

“No,” Mick corrects to Barry’s surprise. “The good guy. He’s supposed to be a good guy.”

“Oh,” is all Barry can muster. He’s turned his eyes to the ground, looking at a stone in the dirt, needing to focus on _something_ that doesn’t include Mick’s face _._

“I was hoping you could try to talk some sense into him,” Barry raises his head at Mick’s words. “You told him he could change his fate and be different and that’s what,” Mick pauses and takes a breath, looking away from Barry, unable to look him in the eyes when he says it. “Ultimately gave him the courage to save all of us.”

Barry is resolute. “I’ll do my best.”

Mick updates him on the rest of their situation. How the Legends are dying, being picked off by the Legion, and how the Spear of Destiny needs to stay in the right hands and stay safe. How the Legends are failing miserably at all of that because who can compete with a speedster and three other villains with advanced deadly weapons?

“Good luck, Red,” Mick says, giving him a mock salute.

And with that, Barry sees Snart in the distance, zeros in on his location, and runs, snatching the man away and depositing him far in the woods. Barry pulls down his cowl while Snart gets his bearings. When the older man finally does, the cold gun is pointed at Barry. It’s familiar.

“Oh hello, _Barry_. Fancy seeing you here,” Snart drawls. “I’d like to stay and _chat_ but I have important _business_ to attend to. Take me back or you’re going to _freeze._ ”

Barry would be lying if he said he hadn’t missed the other mans puns, the banter, the way he _stood_ like a villain, tough and firm. He missed having that gun pointed at him, the subtle threat that wouldn’t actually kill him—Snart would never do that—that made it a little easier to feel like the Flash has a villain that’s actually _fun_ to fight _._

Barry sighs and ignores the older man’s demand. “Snart, what are you doing?”

“My job,” Snart says. “Now _take me back._ I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you want to hurt them?” Barry counters, stepping a little closer. “You want to kill them?”

Snart nods. It’s sharp.

“Then you’ve broken our deal,” Barry is only a few feet away from him. He wouldn’t be able to dodge a blast from the cold gun this close, but he’s banking on Snart not shooting him. “And I can time travel.”

“I noticed.”

“So what’s stopping me from dragging you through time and sending you to prison?” Barry hopes the threat will mean _something_ to Snart. He’s frustrated. The man in front of him is _nothing_ like who Barry had known back when Barry had foiled the heist Len had been doing with his father. His father is supposed to be his last killing, his last _murder._

“Nothing now,” Snart says. “I told you I was a liar.”

“You’re supposed to be better than this!” Barry snaps, throwing up his hands and taking a few steps forward, getting in Snart’s face. The gun presses into his chest but Barry is far from caring. “You’re supposed to be good! Did they even _tell_ you what you’ve _done_ for the universe?”

“They told me I got soft, played hero, and _died,_ ” Len says through gritted teeth. “If being so _kind_ gets me killed I’m not playing the hero game.”

“So it’s smart to do the opposite?”

“No it’s smart to _stick to what I’m used to in order to survive,”_ Snart says. His voice is so sharp, his words like ice, his demeanor stiff and unwelcoming.

“Look,” Barry tries to take a different angle. “I know you’re better than this. _You_ know you’re better than this. Stop trying to hurt them. Save them instead. You can’t tell me _some_ part of you doesn’t want to join the other side, just for a moment. You did once.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll do it again,” Snart says, but his grip on the cold gun loosens and Barry can feel the pressure of the tip on his chest reduce slightly. So, Barry carefully puts one gloved hand on the gun, pushing it downwards with the care of someone approaching an injured animal. To his surprise and relief, Snart doesn’t resist, moving the gun to rest at his side, freeing Barry from any immediate threat. Snart looks away from him and off to the side, sighing in a way that means Barry broke through, _maybe._ He waits.

“Mick thought I was a hallucination,” Snart tells him absently. “I hadn’t realized that he could have been so messed up from everything future me did, that being without me would cause him such pain,” he holsters the gun, flexing his hands to stay busy. “In any reality I thought that I would be the one to go first if I got to choose. I thought he would be okay without me. He’s smarter than most people think he is. He just jumbles words sometimes.”

Barry listens to the monologue, letting it happen. It hadn’t been what he’d been expecting, but then again, at least _something_ he’d done had worked. For once in the past few months maybe Barry’s done something good. For once Barry hadn’t _failed._

Snart continues. “Seeing him like that, trying to wish me away, I just wanted to make it better. I wanted him to be okay. I never _ever_ would want to hurt him, and a part of me hates my future self for it,” He meets Barry’s gaze, eyes blue, cold, and piercing again. The softness in his tone is gone, replaced with grit, anger, and hatred. “If playing _hero_ and _helping_ people,” he scoffs. “Fucks up my partner, then I’m not into it.”

“Then why are you trying to kill him?” Barry says hesitantly, voice low. He’s got one hand on Snart’s shoulder now, brushing off a stray piece of lint. The other man doesn’t flinch and Barry soon removes his hand.

“Because of the Legion,” Snart answers. “Because of the _damn_ Legion. If I can _kill_ all of _them_ , then the Legion can win and keep this reality. I can bring Mick back with the Spear of Destiny and we can go back to the way things were before we both ran off to do such _stupid_ things. That’s how I designed my part of _Doomsworld_ anyway.”

“You won’t be able to do it,” Barry says.

“I will,” Snart says, stern. “And no one’s going to stand in my way.”

Snart abruptly draws his gun and fires at Barry’s abdomen before Barry can so much as realize what’s happening. He falls to the ground, clutching at his stomach and scrambling to turn on the heated wiring in his suit. Snart crouches down and places the tip against Barry’s temple.

“If you leave, I’ll spare you,” Snart compromises. “It’s more than I’ll give _them._ More than I’ll give _him.”_

“I can’t,” Barry’s voice is strained. “Do that.”

Snart shakes his head, and Barry realizes he’s about to fire the gun. He tries to access his speed and fails. So Barry does the only thing he can thing of doing, the only thing he _can_ do, and the only thing he wants to do.

He reaches for Snart’s coat, grabs the lapels in his fists, and yanks Snart down. The older man loses his balance and that’s all the leverage Barry needs to pull him into a kiss. Snart struggles for a second, removes the gun from Barry’s head. It goes to the ground and then Snart is on him, returning the kiss with ferocity and a hint of anger. When he finally pulls away, Barry is shocked below him.

“Ah, the mighty Flash, falling for his villains,” Snart smirks. “You’ve put yourself in a compromising position, Scarlet.”

Barry doesn’t listen to him anymore, surging up as best he can to crash their lips together. He bites Snart’s bottom lip, earning a slight groan from the older man and Barry wraps one of his legs around Snart’s back, pulling him closer.

And really, none of this is _that_ bad.

Snart had been flirting with him from the start and Barry _had_ flirted back. In fact, Barry had come dangerously close to kissing him when Snart had pulled the hot cocoa heist in Barry’s house, and that incident may have fueled some fantasies since.

So yes, none of this is _bad at all._

And Snart doesn’t seem to mind either. But then, Barry’s mind is snapped back to attention by the older man fumbling at his Flash suit, still kissing him, but unable to find the zipper he’s looking for.

“I can help you,” Barry says against his lips, loosening his leg to make it easier.

“Shut _up,_ Scarlet,” Snart commands.

Barry obeys and Snart finds the zipper a few moments later. Cold air hits Barry’s cock quick, and it does nothing to help the remaining ice on his abdomen. There’s not much left, but Barry can still feel the cold burn in his skin. It’s going to last a while and Caitlin is going to kill him for this if he can manage to get back to 2017. Snart’s hand is then wrapped around his dick, erasing the cold and replacing it with an arousing warmth. He strokes, slow.

“I repeat, _compromising position_ ,” Snart tells him. “You sure are willing.”

“I could say the same about you,” Barry shoots back. He hisses when Snart picks up the pace slightly and his thoughts are lost, replaced by the barest hint of desperation. “God _damn_ you’re good at this.”

Snart laughs, twisting his wrist in a way that makes Barry stifle a cry. “I’ve had some practice. Prison, you know.”

Barry finds the strength to scoff at that and then Snart’s strokes are pushing him closer. He’s rapidly getting to the edge and tries to stave it off, just for fun.

But his dick is metaphorically screaming in pleasure and Barry wants to pull Snart down and yell into the fabric on his shoulder, feel Snart’s warmth against him again, fall into a happy—

Barry comes with a shriek, vibrating strongly and causing Snart to raise his eyebrows.

“ _Nice_ ,” Snart says under his breath, removing his hand from Barry’s cock and weakly attempting to shove that part of Barry back inside the flash suit. He takes a handkerchief from a pocket in his coat and then proceeds to wipe down the tripolymer fabric. Barry is surprised by the care Snart is taking in all of this. He props up on his elbows to see Snart looking a little dazed, a little _conflicted_.

“Are you okay? Did I force you into—”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” Snart sits back, placing his hands behind him to support himself. “I’m just frustrated. I don’t want to die, Barry.”

Barry moves so he’s right across of him. “No one does.”

“But _I_ did. Future me did,” Snart argues.

Barry shakes his head. “The world is a cruel place. It doesn’t care what we think. All we have to do is do our best to be better than it.”

The other man contemplates his words, but the conflicting look remains.

“I don’t want to kill Mick,” Snart admits. “I don’t want to hurt any of them. Our deal didn’t just mean I would stay out of prison, Barry. It meant that I had an excuse _not_ to kill people. It forced me to be… a better person. Just a little.”

When Snart meets Barry’s eyes, the older man’s eyes are soft. Barry’s are warm.

“I knew there was good—”

The world explodes in a blinding flash of light and then reality is how it should be.

**Author's Note:**

> So basically my thought process here about the smutty part is akin to Len being somewhat desperate for a distraction in all of this and he does like Barry so it's easy to fall into it. But, like any distraction, it never lasts long enough and only delays the inevitable return to what you were trying to avoid. 
> 
> I'm [GideonShipsIt](http://gideonshipsit.tumblr.com) if you wanna chat etc...


End file.
